Punishment
by Ashita no Yuki
Summary: When Kish does something terrible to Ichigo, Zakuro vows to get revenge. The only problem is, Kish can't seem to remember anything... torture. Not for the easily grossed out or the faint of heart. -Phantom and Potter Obsession has moved her "M" fics here.


**Hey everyone! This is Phantom and Potter Obsession who has been forced to move some of her fan fictions for safety purposes (nosy parents.) _Punishment _is a rather old fan fiction of mine, written when I was having trouble adjusting to some unpleasant changes--the out-of-character behavior that some of my readers pointed out to me was spawned from sheer frustration and lack of caring. I just wanted this out and damn proper character. I won't be changing that, I just thought I'd let you all know that I already know they are ooc--and since this is nearly a year old, I hope my characterization skills have improved anyways.**

**Disclaimer: Tokyo Mew Mew belongs to Mia Ikumi and Reiko Yoshida--I am neither of them, and if I was Masaya would be long dead. Questions?**

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It was dark in the room.

Dark enough to conceal most of the boy who had forgotten who he was, his name, everything. In the sliver of light he could see that his hair was long and green, his skin was pale, and his fingernails were long and flesh-colored, claw-like. He noted his baggy shirt that cut off, baring his midriff, and his equally loose-fitting shorts, topped by a flap at the front and the back, and adorned with two flowing streamers. His arms and legs were wrapped with maroon strips of cloth; his hair was falling out of two ties, one on either side of his face, brushing his pointed ears.

The boy couldn't see anything else in the room. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten there; he had no idea where he was. His head hurt, suggesting that he'd been knocked out or punched. That would make sense. He reached a hand up and felt something warm and sticky on the back of his head. Blood.

The door opened, flooding the room with light. The unknown boy blinked as his sensitive eyes adjusted. A peculiar young woman was standing in the doorway. She had long, purple hair, she was tall, and she was very pretty, but a few things were off about her. She had ridiculously small ears, very round and undoubtedly not very efficient at picking up the smaller noises. She wore a strange dress, of a style the boy didn't recognize—though that didn't surprise him. He knew something was wrong with his memory. Her nails were rounded and clear; her teeth were flat—most odd. Last of all, she was standing on the floor, as though she lacked the ability to fly and hover. She was all and all a strange woman.

"Please—who are you? Who am I? Can you help me?" the boy asked.

The lady gave him a look that was a mix between disgust, scorn, and some kind of sick, evil happiness. _"So you're awake, Kish." _The boy didn't understand the language she spoke. He racked his brains, trying to remember—nothing. His mind came up with a blank nothing.

The boy was suddenly afraid, and not just about his lost memories, for the woman had pulled a rope from behind her back. _"Without your ability to teleport and call your dragon swords, you're helpless." _Again, the boy had no clue what she was telling him, but from the smirk on her face, it wasn't 'Surprise! You won the _lottery!_' Whatever the _lottery_ was—he knew it was a good thing, but that was all. _"I'm going to make you pay for what you did to Ichigo!"_

The woman seized the boy by the wrist and began to walk off with him. Startled, the teenage boy stumbled after her. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew that if it were a good thing, he'd want to be there. If she was going to hurt him, which he suspected from her behavior, it might make more sense to cooperate and pray that it would influence her, and she would take mercy.

The lovely woman forced the teenage boy onto his back on what resembled an operating table, then tied his wrists and feet down. She took the rope and wrapped it around his throat, then tied that to the table too. The boy couldn't move his head at all without choking himself, which the rope was already doing slightly.

"Please—what's going on? What are you doing?" the boy asked, panic in his voice. He wondered if she could even understand him, this woman who spoke the strange language.

_"I don't know what the Hell you're speaking, but it's not Japanese, English, French, Chinese, German, or Spanish, so you'd better start talking in one of those Kish, or else I'm just going to ignore you. You speak Japanese all the time, so shut up whatever you're speaking! Or just shut up, the sound of your voice is annoying me," _the woman snapped. The boy gathered that something had annoyed her, but he wasn't sure what. The teenager nervously twisted his wrists and ankles around, testing the bonds around them.

The boy stared at the woman with a mix of terror and confusion. He wanted to know why she was so strange, why she wanted to hurt him, what he'd done to deserve it—but she didn't understand him when he spoke.

The teenager gasped as the lady pulled a knife out of a drawer. The instrument was at least six inches long, with serrated edges. "Please, please, what have I done?" the boy moaned, shrinking away from the woman who advanced on him, a possessed look haunting her features.

_"I told you to shut up!" _the woman snarled. The boy shrank back even more, frightened. The woman laughed demonically and placed the knife on a small, round, dark wooden end table right by the steel table the teenager was fastened to. The woman sauntered around, removing other assorted objects from cabinets and placing them on the table, plugging them into outlets when necessary.

_"Showtime," _the woman laughed. _"You'll be __so __sorry for what you did to Ichigo!"_ The lady took the knife. Grinning, she slashed the tip of the boy's left ear off. The boy shrieked in agony, could feel the nerves tingling, heard the blood drip onto the table. The woman threw the small hunk of flesh into a contraption—_blender, _his mind was telling him, although the word was unlike any others he remembered—then placed it at his forehead. _"Haven't you realized how gay that pig-tailed hairstyle makes you look?" _she asked, before cutting a large slit around the boy's entire head. He screamed again, the agony sending sparks before his eyes. The pain intensified as fingernails, fingernails_, _cruelly slid under the skin and began to tear, to tear the skin up, to reveal part of his skull. The woman ripped his scalp back with her bloody fingernails, until a good three inches had formed a flap. She laughed, a lovely, tinkling laugh that wouldn't have sounded out of place at an eighteen hundreds tailgate party amongst British gentry, then wiped the boy's crimson blood on his pale face.

_"It's unlike you not to have something to say, Kish. I don't think I've ever heard you shut up for such a long period of time. Then again, I'm talking more than normal now. Maybe to make up for you." _The torturess lit a fire and placed some wires, some pokers, and a curiously shaped brand in the fire. She smiled a bright, sadistic smile, then un-strapped one of the boy's arms. His right arm. He squirmed, trying to break free, but the woman was unnaturally strong. Or was he just weakened from blood loss?

The woman brought another small table out and laid the teenage boy's arm across it. _"Beg, Kish, and maybe I won't break your arm," _she laughed. The boy stared at her. Why did she keep talking to him in this strange tongue? Couldn't she see he didn't understand?

_"Your pride will be your un-doing, I guess." _The woman suddenly shoved the boy's arm down, cracking it along the edge of the table. The teenager shrieked as his bone splintered. It was no clean break; he could feel the shards scatter about. The pain was agonizing; he nearly blacked out as the woman roughly laid his arm flat on the table. The pale boy let it lie there. He didn't have the strength to try and move it.

The purple haired lady took the serrated knife again, and began to saw directly over the break. The boy let out a cry of agony as she jostled the already tender, broken arm. _"Oh, quiet Kish. You don't want bone shards in your arm," _the woman laughed, slicing the skin open at last. She dripped some blood into the _blender, _then began to pick through the teenager's arm for bone shards. When she found them, she dropped them in the _blender _too. _"I wonder if you can guess what I'm doing yet," _she snickered, putting a pair of mitts on her hands, and then removing a wire from the fire. _"I got __this__ idea from a book Lettuce lent me, although I can't remember what it's called," _she told the boy, wrapping the red-hot wire around one of his finger joints and pulling, searing through the flesh down to the bone. _"You're lucky I'm so nice. The person in the book would be taking all the joints off. I'm giving you a prayer of healing. And hear I go, talking like a cliché villain from every bad horror story." _The lady repeated the process on each of his fingers, ignoring the boy's groans of pain.

_"Zakuro!" _A door swung open. A young blonde man stood in the frame, frowning. He had many of the same oddities that the purple haired woman had. The boy wondered if he had been kidnapped by aliens, or something like that. Strangely cyniclon-seeming aliens. _"Zakuro, what on __Earth __are you doing to him?"_

_"I'm getting revenge," _the torturer replied in the same strange language she'd been using the whole time. _"Did Ichigo tell you, Shirogane-san? Did she tell you what he did to her? Little creep." _The woman slapped the teenager in the face, but this was nowhere near the extremes she had gone to, and it hardly even hurt the boy.

_"No, actually, she wouldn't tell me," _the blonde man answered, still looking from the boy to the terrible woman. _"I assume it's something bad though. She's with Lettuce right now, and won't stop crying. He didn't—"_

_"Yes, he did," _the woman answered tightly. _"He's going to pay for it Shirogane-san. Tell the others I'm busy, and I don't want to be interrupted. Oh, keep Pudding away especially. She's too little to understand, and I don't want her to see this."_

_"I take it you've only started punishing him?"_

_"You could say that." _The man nodded and left the room. The green-haired teenager felt a slight sinking in his stomach. He'd hoped the man would be able to stop this unbearable pain!

The woman replaced the half-cooled wire in the fire, and then took one of the pokers out. She placed it against the wound, searing the flesh, stopping the blood flow. The boy bellowed in pain, the yells intensifying when she flaked the burned flesh off and placed it in the _blender. _

"Please, please, what did I do for this to happen? Please, tell me!" The boy begged. He wanted there to be a reason, a terrible reason. Had he done something wrong? It would be unbearable if this were just a random event, something that had happened for no reason except merciless sadism.

The woman ignored the boy's pleas. Well, she might have answered, but the teenager didn't understand. _"Once Mint compared you and Ichigo to The Phantom of the Opera and Christine. Well, the phantom was much more of a gentleman than __you, __but…" _The woman took a fresh poker from the fire and slammed the right side of the teenager's face with it, over and over and over again. _"I don't have a mask for you, so this will have to do," _the lady laughed, taking up the knife once more. She began to gouge out large chunks of the boy's burned flesh, leaving four large, bloody holes in his face. These too went into the small _blender, _which was beginning to get rather full. _"Hm, it's almost ready," _she mused—the boy could tell by the sound of her voice that she was thinking.

The woman smiled evilly, them walked over to the teenager. She took his scalp and with a rip, tore a good half of it off, throwing it in the _blender _as well. The boy gasped, and lost the struggle for consciousness.

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The jolt from the wire woke the boy. He tried to sit out of reflex, and gagged as the rope around his neck choked him. He felt so woozy, so dizzy… but it appeared this wasn't over.

For the woman had seized one of his legs, and was holding it over the _blender_. She confirmed that he was awake, sneered and sliced his heel off, letting the flesh fall out and the blood pour into the device as the boy screamed. She let the blood fill the _blender _almost to the brim, then placed the top on it. _"Enjoy!"_ she laughed as she pressed the on button and mixed the gory mess to a thick liquid.

The boy stared at her, nauseous, as the woman poured some of the disgusting mix of flesh into a cup. She pressed a button on the table and waited for it to raise her victim to a sitting position. _"Drink up, you'll need your strength," _the lady laughed, forcing the teenager's mouth open and pouring the drink down his throat. The boy's stomach rebelled, and the woman stepped out of the way just in time to miss the vomit as the teenager's system rejected his tissue.

"_Aw, you didn't like my smoothie?"_ The woman had a look of mock hurt plastered on her beautiful features. The teenager clamped his mouth firmly shut as she poured more of the gross mixture into the bloody glass. _"Here, some things just take getting used to." _The lady dug her surprisingly sharp fingernails into the boy's cheeks, brushing his teeth as her finger slipped into one of the gouge holes. She squeezed his cheeks inward, forcing his mouth to open, then poured more of the noxious liquid into his mouth. The lady held the boy's mouth shut with one hand to prevent him from expelling the thick fluid this time, and reached for a knife with her other hand.

The woman smiled a little, then plunged the knife into the boy's left arm. She ignored his moan of pain, choosing to twist the knife a little. As soon as she had carved out enough room, the woman slipped her index finger and thumb into the wound, and dragged the knife all the way out, the thick hilt tearing his tendon and muscles. The boy tried to move his arm, and realized with a panicked sensation that he couldn't. His arm no longer worked.

The woman looked around at a voice in the distance. _"Zakuro, come out of there, the café's closing!"_

_"One moment Akasaka-san!" _The woman leaned over to Kish. _"You won't be able to use those arms again, Kish. Keep that in mind. But we can heal you, if you beg. Go on Kish. Beg."_

"I don't… understand…" Kish whispered uncomprehendingly. "Please… just please…"

_"Well, maybe not." _The woman spat in his face. _"Take care Kish. I'll be back in the morning." _The woman got up and left, turning out the light and shutting the door, leaving the boy alone in the darkness, although that was a welcome thing to him.

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**The girl was light, lighter than she looked. He slammed into her, knocking her over. **_**"Stop it Kish!" **_**she screamed, and in the dream he understood her words, and his own, his own words that chilled him to the bone.**

_**"I would if I could Ichigo, but there are some things a guy just needs to do!"**_** In the dream, he forced the girl down, ignored her panicked screams. **_**"Ichigo, please understand why I'm doing this!"**_

_**"No!" **_**the girl shrieked, terrified.**

_**"Ichigo!"**_

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_"Ichigo!"_

The boy once again tried to sit up, but ran into the problem of the rope against his throat. What had that dream been? Was that the reason why this was happening? Had he really done that to a person? Was this his penance?

The boy felt terrible for the unknown girl, but he wasn't sure if that had been a random dream or a reality. What had the word he'd spoken been, the word _'Ichigo?' _Was it a name, a random word, gibberish? His heart leapt when he said it. It was familiar; the meaning was on the tip of his tongue…

The door opened, causing the teenager to flinch. _"Kish?" _A green-haired girl, perhaps a year younger than him entered the room. Was there no end to the amount of strangeness amongst these alien people? The girl wore wire frames about her eyes as well as possessing the same peculiarities as the others. _"Oh my God Kish, what is she doing to you? This is taking revenge too far!" _Her eyes had picked out the holes in his body, the missing half of his ear, the shredded scalp.

"Please… please tell me… where am I? What's happening?" the boy begged, praying she would understand.

The girl frowned. Apparently she couldn't speak his tongue either. _"I'm sorry… ano… can you repeat that in Japanese Kish?"_

"I can't understand you…" the boy whispered, frustrated. He knew he knew what she was saying; he just couldn't remember what it all meant!

The pale teenager flinched as the girl pulled a small, rectangular device out of her pocket, then realized it wasn't being used to hurt him when she touched it several times then pressed it to her ear.

_"Pai? Pai this is Lettuce—wait! Pai I need your help!_

_"No, it's not another demand to leave Earth—Kish hurt Ichigo and Zakuro's hurting him, but for some reason he won't speak in Japanese! I need—yes I'm at the—okay!" _The girl backed up, and the air rippled, signs of teleportation. The teenager sighed in relief.

"Kish! What on—" the purple haired stranger was at least normal seeming, and he was speaking the teenage boy's language.

"What is she doing to you?" the man whispered, staring. "Kish? Kish, answer me!"

"Kish… is that my name?" the boy asked groggily.

The man stared at him, lost for words. "You don't… remember? Yes, that's your name… can't you remember anything? Do you know who I am?"

The teenager—Kish—shook his head. "No," he whispered. He flinched as the green haired girl reached for his face, then felt a soft, wet cloth brush his wounds. She was cleaning them, this strange girl.

The purple haired man's face tightened with worry. "I'm Pai, one of you're friends. We're from the country Cereal, on Land. We're trying to destroy the _humans_—her people—" the guy waved a hand at the green haired girl "—because their planet, _Earth_, used to be ours and they're destroying it. With us is Tart, but he's asleep on the ship now. He's only ten—and I'm eighteen, and you're fifteen. Is there anything you remember?"

"No," Kish answered, trying to think. "I get what you're telling my, but I don't remember it at all. Why was I being…tortured?"

Pai turned to the girl. _"You said he hurt Ichigo—how? He wants to know why you're hurting him."_

_"What, he doesn't know?" _The girl frowned. _"That's for Ichigo to tell people—she told us not to tell anyone, because it was too horrible. He has to know what he did!"_

_"Well, he doesn't remember anything. I had to tell him what his name is and what our mission is! He doesn't know why this is happening!"_

_"Just tell him it's because he hurt Ichigo." _The young woman didn't seem to want to elaborate. She pulled out a splint and gently lifted the green haired boy's broken arm. _"Sorry," _she whispered when he groaned in pain, carefully setting the bone as best as she could before binding it tightly.

_"Can't you give him back?" _Pai asked.

The girl shook her head. _"No, Zakuro isn't finished punishing him. I can try to help him, I just need you here so I can understand him."_

Pai glared at her. _"I could kill you now and take him back," _the tall young man threatened.

The bespectacled girl gasped at the threat, and removed a small pendant. _"Please—I don't want to fight now. Just tell him why this is happening and all, okay?"_

_"Fine."_ The man turned back to Kish. "You're being tortured because you hurt one of the _human_ girls we're fighting against, _Ichigo_. I don't know why you'd hurt her, because you've always been disgustingly in love with her. Do you remember her?"

_Ichigo. _It was that word again. "Is she… the red haired girl, with brown eyes?" Kish asked slowly.

"Well… I don't know if she has brown eyes, but in her normal form yes, she has red hair. The girl in here now is _Lettuce_. She's trying to help a little, but she won't give you back. She says _Zakuro_ isn't done punishing you." Pai sighed. "I can't get you out while she's here, but I should be able to get you out tomorrow night. Just… last until then. You're stronger than these _humans_, just remember that."

Kish nodded. "Okay," he whispered. "I'm sorry I hurt the—_Ichigo, _I guess. I don't know what I did—but I'm sorry. And… I just want to go home—wherever that is."

Pai nodded, then tensed at the footsteps. "I have to go," he whispered, then teleported.

The door slammed open, revealing _Zakuro _and _Ichigo. _Kish's heart gave a strange leap at the sight of the red haired one, of _Ichigo. _Pai said he'd been in love with her…

_"Zakuro, I don't want to see him!"_

_"You have to get over it Ichigo. Well, don't get over it, but understand that this is the only place we can keep him, and he can't go after you in th—Lettuce, what are you __doing?__" Zakuro_ stopped short at the sight of _Lettuce_, who had been busy dabbing disinfectant almost painlessly onto Kish's head.

The girl didn't even glance up. _"Zakuro, I know what he did, we all know what he did… but even so, this is wrong. I'm surprised he survived the night."_

_"Good riddance if he hadn't!" _snapped _Ichigo_. _"I doubt he'll survive when Aoyama-kun gets his hands on him!"_

_"Look—guys, I wanted to find some stuff out, but he wouldn't speak Japanese so I called Pai over to—"_

_"Lettuce you baka!" Zakuro _snapped, her face coloring in anger. _"Now Pai can find him! We'll have to kill him tonight!"_

_"No!" _Whatever they were talking about, it seemed that _Lettuce _was of a different opinion than _Ichigo _and _Zakuro. _For some strange reason, Kish was pretty sure it has to do with him.

_"Guys, listen! Pai said that Kish can't remember anything, he had to tell him his own name! He doesn't understand what we're saying right now, and he doesn't know what he did to Ichigo, and Pai told him he'd hurt her, and I'm sure he's sorry, but he doesn't remember what happened! How can you punish him for something he knows nothing about?" Lettuce _seemed to be pleading. _"I mean, maybe it makes some kind of sick, twisted sense to hurt him, but don't __kill __him!"_

_"Now that Pai knows we have him, I have no choice," Zakuro _replied. _"I'll just have to hurt him first. Ichigo, do you want to help?"_

_"No," Ichigo _spat. _"I never want to see that bastard again! Just leave some of him for Aoyama-kun; I told him about you torturing Kish, and he's looking forward to helping out."_

_"It's your choice. You can go home if you like Ichigo. Shirogane-san said you don't have to work today," Zakuro _offered to the girl.

_"I'm staying until Aoyama-kun gets done. He can walk me home," Ichigo _replied, wiping her suddenly streaming eyes. Kish had the crazy urge to take this girl's hand, to try to comfort her. How could he have hurt her? That would be…

_"Lettuce, go." Zakuro _picked up a cork-screw, held it above Kish's side, then jammed the point in. The woman laughed and twisted it into the boy's flesh. _Ichigo _and _Lettuce _both turned away, sickened, and left the room.

"Please! Come back and help me!" Kish begged, seeing the other two walk away. "Please! Please! Stop it!" He screamed as the woman twisted the object, carelessly tearing through his insides. His cries had no effect as this _human _didn't speak his language.

Once again the door opened, and Kish could just make out the figure that entered the room. It was a dark boy, about his age. The _human _would have been handsome if it wasn't for the sneer of hate on his face, the sneer of hate that was directed at Kish.

_"Bastard!" _ the _human _boy snarled, seizing the knife and stabbing Kish. The boy gasped in pain, but the dark, slightly younger person simply yanked the knife out and stabbed again, and again, and again. Kish's vision and hearing faded each time the knife plunged into his flesh.

_"Enough." Zakuro _seized they boy's hand, preventing him from stabbing Kish again. _"I know it's hard, but control your anger. He can't die until tonight."_

_"But… what he…" _the boy was shaking with fury. Kish stared at the seemingly insane boy, his eye's following the other person's hand. The boy had found the 'smoothie,' now beginning to decay. Kish's eyes widened as the boy seized the blender. He grabbed the knife and drove it into Kish's stomach, causing the boy to gasp in pain. When Kish's mouth opened, the dark teenager poured the rotting liquid down his throat and forced the boy's mouth shut.

It appeared the _Zakuro _wanted a break. She left the room, leaving Kish to the 'mercy' of the new torturer. This boy seemed even worse, like he wanted revenge for _Ichigo_ even more than _Zakuro_ had. He seized a poker from the still smoldering fire—Kish had no idea how that had kept going overnight—and slammed the boy in the face with it. Kish groaned as his flesh crisped and his cheekbone crunched. The torturer then stabbed the poker into the wound in Kish's side, the wound that had just begun to clot. "Please, please, stop it!" Kish begged. He didn't care what he'd done to this girl right now, it surely couldn't have warranted this agony. "Please, please, I beg you, just let me go!"

_"Shut up you stupid baka!" _the boy snarled, grabbing a lighter. Kish shrank away as the dark, younger boy flicked it on. He smirked, letting Kish stare at the flame, before he slowly, deliberately brought it down towards Kish's face.

The _human _let the flame flicker in front of Kish's terrified, pain filled eyes for a moment. Then he lifted his spare hand, held Kish's right eyelids open, and brought the flame down to brush Kish's eye.

It was only for a moment, but the moment was agony to Kish. The pained tears that flowed out of his eyes doused the fire almost immediately, but it had been long enough to blind the boy. His eye felt charred, making it painful to close, but the raw, cruel air stung the wound. Something told Kish he would never see out of that eye again. He whimpered in pain and realization.

The cruel bonds around Kish's arms and legs were suddenly released. He curled up into a ball, trying in vain to protect himself from more pain.

_"He'll die if we do much else to him." _It seemed that _Zakuro _was back in the room. _"So we really should kill him now, don't you think?"_

_"Yeah, that's a good idea. How shall we kill him?" _the boy replied to whatever the girl said.

_"Ha. Well, let's say it won't be pretty." _Kish felt cold, hard hands seize his arm, while another pair of slightly sweaty palms held him down. He was too weak to struggle, but he knew that they were planning on doing something to him, indubitably to his outstretched arm.

Kish cracked his left eye open to see _Zakuro_ take an enormous knife. He winced as she raised it above her head, anticipating the pain. A shriek tore from his mouth as the girl brought the axe down and severed his hand from his wrist.

_"There's one hand that'll never be used to hurt a girl again," Zakuro _snarled. _"Aoyama, care to do the honors on the next hand?"_

_"I'll be glad to," _the boy grinned. He grabbed the knife, much to Kish's despair. How much more could they do to him?

Kish's pained and miserable cry rent the air, shattering the silence of the café, but no one who would help him could hear it. The boy stared with his one good, bloodshot eye at the stump of his other arm. He had no hands. No…

_Zakuro _smiled evilly. _"The final touch," _she sneered. _"Good-bye Kish." _The girl removed a poker from the fire, very melted out of shape from its long time in the heat. She pressed it to the boy's bleeding stumps.

Kish could hardly feel the pain anymore. H couldn't breathe. He could see fuzzy shapes… _"Ichigo…" _he breathed unthinkingly. He did not breathe in.

_Zakuro _felt the boy's stump of a wrist for a pulse. There was none that the model could feel. _"Good," _the young lady smiled. _"He's dead."_

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(A/N-Since it's all supposed to be in Japanese from not on, I stopped using italics.)

It was raining as world famous model Zakuro Fujiwara hurried from the café to her waiting limousine. Though she was running at full speed, because it wouldn't do to be late to her photo shoot, the girl didn't get very far.

A strong, pale hand closed around the girl's arm. She felt a sickening, swirling sensation. The model landed on her hands and knees and vomited all over the floor.

The pale hand lifted her up again, this time helped by another pair of smaller, equally light hands. The young woman didn't look around. She didn't need to see that Tart and Pai had kidnapped her.

Zakuro winced as she was turned around and slammed hard onto a board. As the shackled fastened around her wrists, Tart spoke for the first time. "You will pay for killing Kish," the child whispered, his voice thick with grief.

"Say good-bye to your sanity, Mew Zakuro," Pai hissed, his eyes ablaze with vengeance.

Zakuro nodded slightly, before closing her eyes and preparing to give herself up to the pain of her punishment.


End file.
